Page 24 of Burn Point

He’d been so tired when he’d gotten home the previous night. He’d passed out early, but he had been bright and chipper this morning.

I putzed around the house, worried about Nate’s well-being while I tidied things up. I’d just begun sorting through the bins we’d brought back, making a pile of things to wash and sanitize, when a knock sounded at the front door, followed by a soft voice.

“Knock, knock. Jordan? It’s Leah.” A small woman stuck her head through the doorway. She beamed at me and entered. With her boho style and serene expression, I had her pegged for a yoga teacher in a heartbeat.

She smiled. “Hi. Mike called and said you needed to make a run to town. Is now a good time?”

The people in this community, Nate’s friend group, were amazing. “That’d be great, if you’re sure you don’t mind? I hate feeling like such a burden.”

Leah’s face melted with compassion. “Not at all, I’ve been wringing my hands at how I can be productive. I’d love to help you.”

Leah hooked her arm through mine. “Don’t beat yourself up over being in a situation that you have no control over. Come on, let’s go do some shopping.”

A couple of hours later, I had some new clothes, new underwear, a new power cord, and enough groceries to feed Nate and myself for a week. Throughout the course of the day Leah had spilled her and Mike’s story. Their instant connection had my romantic heart swooning.

I’d gotten over my self-consciousness about halfway through the trip through the women’s section, when Leah kept making suggestions, and I finally gave in to her demands. Her best friend, Kylie, had met up with us and between the two of them, all I’d had to do was stand there and say yes or no to things. They were laser focused on shopping and made it easy on me.

Neither had asked me any hard, probing questions—they kept the trip light and teasing and fun.

Kylie had insisted on paying for everything, whipping out her credit card before I even knew what was happening.

When I got back to Nate’s, I put on a roast for dinner and plugged in my laptop. I sorted through dozens of emails, letting my clients know what had happened and that I was okay, but I was a couple of days behind on work. For those on deadline, I shifted them to another editor who’d offered to help me.

I’d already contacted my insurance agent and gotten the ball rolling on a claim. I touched base with my landlord to let him know the status of the house, and that I’d retrieved all I could.

Overall, it was a successful day, a good day. I felt accomplished for the first time since the storm. Marking things off my to-do list, getting essentials, being able to do some work. I finally felt like I had some control of my life. I was regaining my independence.

Nate came in from work late and shoveled his dinner like a robot. He looked so tired that I told him to go on to bed and I cleaned up the dinner remains, trying to do my part as a good roommate.

Dreading the last task on my to-do list, I checked the time. Arizona was two hours behind me, so it wasn’t too late. I grabbed a glass of wine and dialed my mother.

“Well, hello, daughter. It’s about time I heard from you.” She threw the gauntlet right out of the gate.

“Hi, Mom. Sorry, things have been a little crazy around here.” I hedged, not even wanting to go through with this conversation, but knowing I had too sooner or later. “We had a little weather incident here. Maybe you saw it on social media?”

“What do you mean? What kind of weather incident?”

Of course, this little town hadn’t made national news, so I’d have to break the news to her myself.

“We had an EF-4 tornado here. It kind of wrecked everything and I’ve just gotten my phone back.” I braced for her reaction.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Oh my God, Jordan! Are you all right? Why didn’t you call me?” Her squeal blasted through the connection.

I closed my eyes as she yelled in my ear.

“I’m okay, Mom. My house got hit pretty hard. And I’m calling you now.”

“Oh my God, this is terrible! Were you hurt? How bad is your house? Oh my God, why did you have to move so far away. This never would’ve happened if you’d not moved so far away.”

Just like always, she over-reacted.

“Mom, I hardly think that my living arrangements have any effect on the weather.”

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